How to Train a Horse
by HTTYD229
Summary: Meet Harvey Haddock. Sherriff's only son and town screw up. That is until he befriends the horse of one of the bandits. A special fic, especially if you love orses. I'm just gonna say this now so I won't have to repeat myself: I HAVE NO RIGHTS!
1. Meet Harvey Haddock

**New story idea, especially for all you horse-lovers. For this fic, we'll travel back in time to sometimes in the 1800's. YAY! Time Warp! It's just a jump to the left and a step to the right! Put your hands on your hips and pull you knees in tight. You do the- Wait... Sorry... Got a little carried away there... **

_This is Berk. Its 12 days north of Wichita and a few degrees south of Topeka. It's located solidly in the middle of Kansas. Our town has been here for seven generation. My town. In a word, sturdy. Nearly every building has had numerous repairs, and a few had to be built all over again. In a word: sturdy. We have trading... and that's pretty much it. Hey. There isn't much to do if you live in the middle of nowhere. Of course there's a problem..._

Young Harvey Haddock slammed the door back shut.

"Bandits!" He whispered. He ran outside into the danger without hesitation. He was soon stopped by a familiar hand.

"Harvey? What're you doing? Get back inside!"

_That's Sampson, the town sheriff. They say when he was a child, he could pick up a gun and killed a few bandits that same night. Do I believe it? Yes I do._

Harvey had finally made it to the forge. Since the town was so small, the forge was a blacksmith's, leather smith, and a weaponry. His mentor in all three, Gus, was removing bullets from their molds. Harvey quickly slipped off his leather vest and tied and apron around his skinny frame, and green shirt showed clearly in the candlelight.

"Glad you could make it. I thought you'd be dead by now..."

"Ha, ha, ha. Very funny."

_The one wit the sarcasm is my mentor, Gus. I've been his apprentice since I was little. Well, littler..._

"Fire!" Some random citizen yelled.

I heard a brick "come on" from another.

_Oh, that's Franklin, Samuel, Rachel and Timothy, and... Abigail._

To Harvey, Abigail was perfect. She had a round face, bright blue eyes, and a thick braid running down to the middle of her back. (Remind you of anyone...)

"What's that?"

"Uh... a lasso?"

"Only the bandits have a need for them things!"

"We .. need them to..."

"Oh, yeah. For what?"

"For the sheep?"

"That's the reason why we have sheep rustlers. To bring back the sheep when they get loose."

"But this is much faster! See..." Harvey did his best to twilr the rope expertly, but ended up entangling himself.

"This is what I'm talking about! You need to be less of ... this."

"But you just gestured to all of me!"

"That's it. Stop being all of you. Now, I gotta go. They need me out there." Gus explained. "You. Stay. Put. Here."

Without warning, Harvey snuck out. It wasn't long before a bandit cornered him.

"Gotcha, boy!" the bandit said menacingly. Harvey ran for his life, with the bandit following him on his horse. The horse was black as night, but was suddenly spooked. Without thinking, Harvey tossed the lasso, praying it would land around the horse's neck. Success.

"I-I did it!" Soon, Harvey continued running, multiple bandits chasing him on foot. Just as the teen thought all was lost, Sampson leapt out of nowhere and fought them off singlehandedly.

_Oh. There's one more thing you need to know..._

Harvey looked up at the sheriff apologetically. "Sorry, Pa..."

**Ok, I thought this was a good place to stop. Tell me what you think. Review or I'm not posting more, and I'll send all of the cannibalistic bandits on you! MWAHAHAHAHA!**


	2. Discoveries

**Wow. This was more popular than I thought… I would really love at least 8 reviews this time… Enjoy. **

"Harvey. Every time you step outside, disaster follows. Can you not see we have bigger problems? The bandits have taken most of what we'll need in the winter to survive."

"Between you and me, Pa, I think we can get along fine."

"This isn't a joke, Harvey. I'm your authority. It's like I get no respect. All I ask for is a little respect. But do I get respect from you, Harvey? No. I get no respect."

"I respect you, Pa…"

"Gus, take him back to the house. I have enough to deal with right now."

Harvey didn't need an invitation to know when to go back to the house. His father thought different.

"He never listens." Harvey was ranting on about his father… again.

"Well, it runs in the family."

"And when he does, he always has this scowl on his face."

"Look. It's not so much what you look like. It's what's inside that he can't stand."

Harvey stared at his mentor, surprised that he would actually think this. "Thank you for summing that up.

"Stop trying to be someone you're not. It can be good to be different."

"What're you talking about? First, you tell me that I need to stop being me. Now, you tell me that I shouldn't act like everybody else! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?" the apprentice slammed the front door and headed right out the back door into an open field.

Later, all of the adults had gathered in the saloon.

"Either we finish them, or they'll finish us!" Sampson declared. "If we find their hideout, they'll leave and find another one. One more search before the frost hits, and we lose all the crops to 'em!"

"The search parties never come back..." a random citizen brought up.

Sampson had enough of this. "We're cowboys. It's an occupational hazard. Now, who's with me?" Nothing. "Ok. Those who stay will look after Harvey."

Shouts of agreement rose throughout the crowd.

"That's more like it," Sampson said to himself, satisfied.

"I'll go pack, then." Gus head for the door.

"No, Gus," Sampson said, gabbing him by the shoulder. "I need you to stay and train new recruits.

"Oh, yeah." Gus added sarcastically. "And while you're gone, Harvey can take over the stall! Molten steel, razor-sharp objects, lots of time to himself, what can possibly go wrong?"

"This isn't a joke, Gus." Sampson sighed. "What am I gonna do with him?"

"Put him in training."

"For what? So he can get killed?"

"No. Just to strengthen him up a bit. Y'all know how weak he is."

"Maybe you're right. Ya know what I'm gettin at. Ever since he could crawl, he's been different. He don't listen, he has the attention span of a sparrow. I took him fishing once, but went out looking for horses…"

"You can't stop 'em, Sampson. You can only prepare him for his future. Look. I know it ain't easy, but you can't be there to protect him all the time."

Harvey was out, scribbling X's over all the possible spots the horse could be. Eventually, he got so frustrated that he scribbled out the entire page in his journal.

"This is great. Just great! Some people lose their hat or a pistol. No. I just have to lose an entire horse!" He stepped on a couple of weeds, but the plants only came back up to slap him in the face. "OW!" Squish. Harvey looked down only to see the river bank, hoof prints dotting the shore. He followed quickly, racing to catch up. Soon, he saw it.

A jet black thoroughbred, the lasso that Harvey had, roped it with around its neck. The rope itself was caught in an old fence, a corral if you will. The notch the rope attached itself to held, giving the horse nowhere to go. Trapped. Harvey felt bad for the poor creature. He took a step, the horse reared up, whinnying horridly. Harvey quickly cut the lasso with a knife, setting the horse free. The stallion jumped the fence, only to fall back in a failed attempt. The boy knew something was wrong, but wasn't able to define the problem.

At home, Sampson was tending the fireplace, making sure there was enough wood for the night. "Harvey."

"Oh, Pa… I have to talk to you, Pa."

"I have to talk with you, son."

The two spoke at the same time.

"I've decided I don't want to fight bandits."

"I think it's time you've learned to fight bandits."

"What?"

**I got the whole part about respect from the musical Bye-Bye Birdie. It was the musical I was involved in this past year. Sorry I haven't been updating much. I've been busy and I just came back from New York City last week on a band trip. We saw Lion King on Broadway. It. Was. Awesome! **


	3. Welcome to Training!

**Sorry if I haven't updated in a while. My inspiration comes and goes. Please review. Yeah. That sounds really good right now. I'm feeling kinda down because the school website shows my English grad as a 48.5 when I KNOW I've been turning stuff in. So I'm in a little bit of trouble. We've had problems on the website before, so I'm pretty sure that's what is is. **

"You go first," Sampson offered.

"No, you go first," Harvey refused, not telling his father that he didn't have the heart to rid of the bandit's horse.

"Ok. Training. You start in the morning,"

"Oh, really, Pa, because, you know, I know we have a surplus on bandit-fighting cowboys, but what about, me just sticking to leather, iron, steel, that sort of thing?"

"You'll need this." Sampson continued, ignoring his son. He opened a chest and brought out a shiny, hardly-been-touched pistol.

"I don't want to fight bandits." Harvey stammered.

"Oh _course _you do!"Sampson chuckled, knowing his only son's dream was to go out there and knock bandits off of their horses.

"No, I'm really, very, extra-sure that I won't."

"Listen to me, Harvey. When you carry this pistol, you carry all of us with you. You _talk _like us, you _walk _like us, and you _think _like us." Sampson lectured. "No more of... this."

"But you just gestured to all of me!"

"Deal?"

"This conversation is feeling very one-sided," the teen remarked.

"Deal?"

"Deal," Harvey confirmed weakly.

"Good. I'll be back," Sampson started for the door, grabbing his things. "Probably."

"And I'll be here... maybe..." Harvey finished with his tone droning.

"Welcome to your first day of training!" Gus introduced his newest students. The field looked like somewhere you might play paint ball. Obstacles everywhere.

"I'm hoping for a few scars, ya know!" Rachel boasted.

"Yeah. It's not any fun unless you get a scar out of it." Abigail commented.

"Pain. Love it." Harvey said dead-pan, coming up behind them.

"Who let him join?" Timothy questioned, astonished.

"Can I transfer to the class with the cool cowboys?" Samuel asked, annoyed that his weaker cousin could withstand the vigorous training that was about to begin.

"Don't worry about a thing, Harvey," Gus reassured him. "You're smaller and weaker. That'll make you **more **of a target. They'll see you as unhealthy and weak and take you because you're such an easy target!" he finished, turning his attention back to the others.

"Now, we'll work on the first aspect of our training. Stealth. The bullets I had you load into your pistols are these little metal balls can leave some pretty nasty welts. Let's get started." the older blacksmith announced,

"Aren't you going to teach us?" Samuel asked, alarmed.

"Don't worry. I believe in learning on the job. Go!" Gus answered. "Now, if you get hit, you'd be dead."

"Get out of my barrier!" an unhappy Rachel Thorston yelled at her twin.

"No, this is my barrier!" Timothy countered. "Hey, take that one over there! It was flowers on it! Girls like flowers, don't they?" the twin countered in an attempt to force his sister to leave. Suddenly, the barrier fell on top of him.

"Oops! Now it has blood on it!" Rachel spat back.

_Bang!_

_Bang!_

"Rachel, Timothy, you're out." Gus called out to the bickering twins.

"What?"

"Harvey! Stop acting like an idiot and get out there!"

"So, I just started a shooting range sometime in an open field. You should come by some time!" Samuel told Abigail, only for the blonde to move away from him.

_Bang!_

"Samuel, you're out!"

_Bang!_

"You too, Franklin!"

"So, I guess it's just you and me then?" Harvey asked. Abigail was surprisingly close to him...

"Nope, just me." Abigail swiftly moved away.

_Bang!_

Harvey, doubled over, clutching his left leg. He quickly rolled up his trouser leg, only to find a welt the size of a decent mosquito bite. Abigail came out from behind a nearby barrier, blowing the smoke from her pistol.

"Good shot, Abigail!" Gus congratulated. He turned to the remaining five. "Don't worry. You'll all get more opportunities."

**And... That's a wrap! Yes, I changed some of the lines on purpose to make it even better! Some of you have been asking me questions. Let's see. *opens fain mail* Ok. For the names, I looked up popular names in the 1800s. Simple enough. Yes, they are in Kansas. I think I've established that in the first chapter. The idea just randomly came to me, and I decided that it was fanfic worthy. Next time, you'll get to see the horse better and find out what his name is. And yes, it does start with the letter "T". Just like Toothless. :D **


	4. A Forbidden Friendship

**HIYA! Again, my inspiration has come back! **

After training, Harvey was curious to learn more about that black stallion. So, he grabbed supplies including carrots (of course) and a notebook and pen. He quickly relocated the corral. However, the horse had disappeared.

"Hm." Harvey though. "Maybe he felt better and made the jump after all. Thunder rolled. "Funny." the boy said to himself. "It's not supposed to rain so why is there-" His sentence was cut of. The gate was wide open, and he could feel some one breathing down his neck. Cautiously, Harvey turned around, only to see the horse.

"Huh, thunder storm. I could have sworn it was gonna-" The stallion swiftly gabbed a carrot from the boy's bag and crunched it down.

"Rain." Harvey finished, backing up slowly. However, Thunder Storm followed him. "Uh... I don't have any more." Harvey reached out a hand, but Thunder limped to the other side of the corral. The blacksmith came back, watching him graze. The horse gave an indignant whinny, sending the boy back to the other side of the pasture.

A while later, Thunder had found Harvey drawing in his pad. It was superb to say the least. It was an intricate illustration of Thunder Storm himself. Harvey had noticed the horse's presence, froze, then continued drawing. The young stallion had taken interest and went off on his own, making marks in the area with the most dirt, or in this case, dust. The blacksmith/ leather smith had heard the horse's nicker and looked over his shoulder, only to find various squiggles and swirls in the dirt with Thunder looking very pleased with himself.

Harvey stood up and took a step, only for Thunder to pin back his ears and snort. The teen, quickly noticing his behavior as a sign of anger, and immediately stepped back. Then, he proceeded to take another step forward, only to have Thunder react in the same behavior. This pattern occurred several times before Harvey got the message and stepped over the lines. Thunder's ears perked forward and watched intently as the skinny human stepped over line after line, as if in a dance. Suddenly, it stopped. Harvey could feel Thunder, once again, breathing down his neck. He cautiously turned around and stretched his arm forward. Thunder hesitated, but finally trusted the boy. He ever so gently placed his muzzle against the teen's hand. Harvey stared at the horse in shock. This didn't last long, however. Thunder had soon realized he had made a mistake and hurried over to the other side of the pasture.

Later that night, Harvey was flipping through various notes and sketches of Thunder Storm. The more he read, the more realized that the horse's back, left leg was injured. It was correctable, however. It just needed time.

Harvey snuck into the shop. He really wasn't supposed to do anything without Gus around, due to the fact of being accident prone, but Harvey continued anyways. He laid out his plans and got to work. Thankfully, there was already leather prepared. Harvey took the scraps. They were just enough. He worked tirelessly through the night. Soon, he had created a brand new, leather halter with a lead rope to go with it. Harvey took everything back to home to pack for the following day, consisting of a few carrots, the halter and lead, and some bandages.


End file.
